Neville's Sorting
by CrazyEyesConnor
Summary: What happened when Neville put on the Sorting Hat all those years ago? A tale of nervous children, exasperated headwear, and neurotic fears.


**Title:** Neville's Sorting

**Author:** CrazyEyesConnor

**Pairing/Characters:** Neville

**Rating:** PG-13 (Language)

**Genre:** General/Humor

**Summary:** What happened when Neville put on the Sorting Hat all those years ago? A tale of nervous children, exasperated headwear, and neurotic fears.

**Notes:** Inspired by a discussion on Pottercast awhile ago on why Neville was sorted into Gryffindor. I had a friend look this over, and while she thought it was funny, I still fear that it's terrible. So any and all feedback is appriciated.

**Spoilers:** Only PS/SS I believe.

**Disclaimer:** There are many people who own a piece of the Potter pie. Sadly, I am not one of them.

When Neville looked back to his first night at Hogwarts, the thing that stuck out most was that he'd been scared completely and utterly shitless. That wasn't quite the way he had put it back then, of course, because he'd been eleven-years-old and had lived his entire life with his strict grandmother and didn't know any swear words yet. Though fortunately for him and his underdeveloped sense of depravity, he had ended up in a dorm with Seamus Finnegan, whose own strict grandmother had been dead for four or five years by then and, judging from the various obscene things that came out of Seamus' mouth, was regularly turning over in her grave. Neville had a full arsenal of colorful language at his command by the end of the second week, although he hadn't the courage to use it until he was thirteen.

But really, I'm getting ahead of myself. This tale concerns Neville's first night at Hogwarts and not any of the filthy things that may have happened in his dormitory at any point thereafter.

* * *

What scared Neville most that night, was not the train ride (his Gran had made him a sandwich and when he lost his toad, a shrill, bossy girl named Hermione had helped him look for it), or traveling across the lake in an enchanted rowboat (he'd felt a little sick, but it was over before he knew it), or even the thought that he wouldn't make any friends (he had already met a girl!). What frightened the piss out of him (a later used term, naturally) was the prospect of being sorted.

Gran had never told him what to expect when he was sorted, except that he, "had better end up in Gryffindor like your poor parents, God rest their souls." His anxiety over the matter was not remotely abetted by Ronald Weasley, who was whispering something to Harry Potter (!) about trolls. He tried to distract himself by concentrating on keeping a firm hold on Trevor.

Finally, Professor McGonagall, who was wearing a hat that seemed impossibly tall to him, opened the doors to the Great Hall so he and the other first years could follow her in. When she had brought them up to the front of the room, she pulled a wooden stool with an old hat on it toward them.

Speaking as someone who'd spent his entire youth having adventure novels pushed upon him to help with what his relatives perceived as a melancholic temperament, Neville felt it was all rather anti-climatic.

And then the damn thing started singing.

Neville, like just about any child born into a magical household, had plenty of magical toys growing up – Ever-Spinning Tops and the like – but anything that talked or sang scared the living daylights out of him. Gran claimed that he'd always had this 'unnatural' phobia, and told him that when he was a baby, his parents eventually had to ask people to stop sending enchanted teddy bears with messages of good health because when presented with them, Neville would have what looked like a full-scale panic attack, but couldn't have possibly been one because he was only a month old. Neville, age eleven, may have been having a panic attack as well. The hat didn't even have a proper _mouth_, for Merlin's sake!

Fortunately, the song was soon over, and Neville only had to contend with the hat shouting out house names every minute or so. He winced every time it did. Also fortunately, thanks to the magic of alphabetical order, he would be sorted fairly soon, unless all of his classmates inexplicably had last names beginning with the letters A through K.

When it was finally his turn he almost ran to the stool he was so nervous. Just before the hat sank over his eyes he said a little prayer, _Please, oh _please_ let it be quick_. The hat chuckled at him. Apparently, it had heard.

_I always try,_ he said to Neville, _although I'll admit it's difficult sometimes. I spent a good ten minutes on a girl named Tonks a few years ago: Mother was a Ravenclaw, Father was a Muggle, came from a long line of Slytherins. She was cheeky. I ended up putting her in Gryffindor._

_Do you have to be cheeky to end up in Gryffindor?_ Neville asked the hat. This wasn't good. If the answer was yes he'd never get in. Although he had to admit, it might be nice to be in another house. He wouldn't have to live up to his Gran's expectations then. He would make a good Hufflepuff, nobody expected much from Hufflepuffs.

_Of course not boy, don't be silly,_ the hat said, _if they were all cheeky then lessons would be chaos. I always make sure to put a few wilting violets in there as well. Now then, I don't sense a lot of ambition in you, or a particular knack for your studies. It'll have to be Gryffindor or Hufflepuff._ There was a very long pause.

_But which one? _Neville asked in confusion. He obviously couldn't be a member of two houses.

_I think you would do well in either, _said the hat, _it's really up to you._

_What? _Neville was even more confused now, _but you're the Sorting Hat! You're supposed to know which is better for me!_

_They're completely equal when it comes down to what's right for you._

_But I thought you were supposed to pick?_

_We do let people have a bit of free will in this you know._

_But I don't know which one!_

_Just pick._

_I'm not qualified to make this decision!_

_Just pick one!_

_But I'm not sure which would –_

_JESUS CHRIST, JUST PICK A GODDAMN HOUSE!_ Neville was even more terrified than he'd been when he sat down on the stool. He blurted out the first one that popped into his head.

_Gryffindor!_

_Finally, _the House said with a derisive snort, _I'm far too old for this._

"GRYFFINDOR!"

And Neville was so relieved to be done with it that when he ran to the Gryffindor table to join his housemates he left the stupid hat on his head.

The End


End file.
